


have we ever been (friends that is)

by avid_reader1



Category: Carry On - Rainbow Rowell
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-29
Updated: 2015-12-29
Packaged: 2018-05-10 03:13:34
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 446
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5568685
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/avid_reader1/pseuds/avid_reader1
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>They were never lovers, they were never friends. They are fire and ice, volcanos and forest wildfire and glaciers and deep freeze. They are sun and moon, stars and seas. They are fate.</p>
            </blockquote>





	have we ever been (friends that is)

Penny looks at him, something akin to pity behind her spectacles. "Simon. You talk about hating Baz with more passion than loving Agatha. It's not hard to understand."

He swallows past the lump in his throat. He couldn't be. He wasn't. 

He wasn't in love with Basilton Pitch. 

\--

Agatha pulls him aside one day. It's one of those in between days you could only get in England: overcast skies with a delightfully warm breeze. It's beautiful really, but Simon feels cold. He can't understand what Agatha's saying. 

"I'm making this easier for the both of us, Simon," Agatha continues, words kind but eyes cold. There hasn't been anything between them for a long time. But the Mage's Heir is a coward, in a lot of things. It had been easier to deal with Agatha, silvery eyes and golden hair, than grey lips and poison words. 

"I'm sorry, Simon." She walks away, hips swinging and hair brushing along her slim shoulders. The perfect picture of beauty and poise. 

He doesn't understand why he feels nothing but relief. Except in all the ways he refuse to admit he does. 

\--

They were never lovers, they were never friends. They are fire and ice, volcanos and forest wildfire and glaciers and deep freeze. They are sun and moon, stars and seas. They are fate. 

\--

Baz touches his nose to Simon's cheek and it's like pressing a glacier into a raging wildfire. Simon can feel the tingle right down to his toes. It's like magic, _better_ than magic, because it's _Baz_. 

It's always been Baz. 

"I choose you, Simon Snow," Baz whispers, grey lip and grey eyes and poison words pressing deep into the crack in his innermost being. He settles a proprietary hand on the small of Simon's back. 

It's better than the strawberry scent Agatha carries with her, better than soft curves and silky skin. Baz is hard and unyielding and Simon wouldn't have it any other way. 

"Not Wellbelove." Baz traces a path with his tongue on Simon's neck. "Not anybody else." He bites down on a mole at the curve of his jaw, and it sends a frisson of elated fright up Simon's spine. "Me, Snow."

"You. You. Always you." Simon punctuates each sentence with a kiss on Baz's clavicle, a taste of tongue and more than a hint of teeth. Thighs slid between legs and delicious friction, swimming together in the clouds of their pleasure as they breathe each other in. 

It was always going to end like this.

Basilton Pitch, evil vampire, and Simon Snow, the Chosen One. Lips on necks and tongue on lips and fire and ice burning its way through their veins.


End file.
